


The Hole In The Wall

by entanglednow



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Clueless husbands, Coming Untouched, Corporations Are Hard, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Garden of Eden, Historical, Idiots in Love, M/M, Rimming, Stuck In A Hole, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: In which there is a hole in the wall, Crawly is helpful, and Aziraphale is curious about a lot of things.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 516
Collections: Top Aziraphale Recs





	The Hole In The Wall

**Author's Note:**

> The amazingly talented Aiwa is doing kinktober, and I couldn't resist writing a little something for [Day 8: Kabeshiri](https://twitter.com/nsfwaiwa/status/1314180056898568193), or 'stuck in a wall.'

"I thought you fixed that." Crawly nods at the hole in the wall, which is currently looking quite holey and not at all filled. This is deeply annoying, because Aziraphale was sure he'd replaced the stone afterwards. The blasted thing must have fallen out.

"Oh for goodness sake. I put that back once." Stone is not supposed to wander.

Crawly looks at him, his expression strangely amused, his large yellow eyes drift across Aziraphale's face, as if looking for something, before finally sweeping back towards the wall.

"Must have fallen out, I'll take a look for you."

Aziraphale's about to tell him that it's really no bother. It's something he broke and it's his responsibility to fix it, _again_. Honestly, he's really rather embarrassed about it now - but Crawly's already leaning in and poking his head through the hole, one thin arm sliding in after him. His bare feet, with dark nails and strong tendons, push down in the grass, long toes scrunching. They don't look like Aziraphale's at all, and he finds them oddly fascinating.

"Ah, I see it," Crawly calls, his voice coming from both inside the garden and out at the same time. Such a strange concept. "It's in two pieces. Must have had a crack in it and all that thunderstorming shook it loose or something."

That does make more sense than it choosing to fall out on its own.

"You really don't have to do this," Aziraphale tells him. "I don't want to put you to any bother."

"Not a bother, angel." Crawly slips in further. "Don't even need to turn into a snake, see. These corporations are quite bendy aren't they?"

Aziraphale frowns, because he hasn't found his own to be particularly flexible, certainly not like Crawly is suddenly proving himself to be. The hands are rather nice though, and squeezing them together helps him feel less like he's going to fly apart at the seams, or perhaps touch something he shouldn't.

Crawly gives a kick and pops in almost to the waist, buttocks jiggling beneath his dark robes.

Aziraphale has never seen a corporation from this angle before. No, that's not entirely true, there was Eve that night when she was trying to entice Adam to - ah - join her in more activities of a human-producing nature. She'd wriggled a lot like this before Adam had slipped in behind her and - before he'd put his - Oh dear, he really shouldn't be thinking about things like that. Certainly not around Crawly.

Aziraphale clears his throat.

"Do you have it yet?" he asks hopefully.

The demon's robe has caught on a rough patch of stone, his long bare thighs now far more visible, sliding gently against each other, and it occurs to Aziraphale that neither of them are wearing anything beneath these robes. If he was to - well, if there was a sudden and unexpected gust of wind he'd discover exactly how faithful Crawly had been to the human blueprint. Whether he'd decided on the penis or the vagina. He'd find out which he'd chosen for certain. They were rather hard to miss.

It seems odd that some parts of the human form should be so much more fascinating than others. The idle consideration of which genitalia Crawly had picked, if any, should be a perfectly reasonable one, and yet watching Crawly slip his way through that hole to the waist - Aziraphale feels hot all over at the thought of it. His own genitals are certainly finding the idea interesting, which feels like a betrayal, he's distressed to find himself stiffening in the same way that he'd seen Adam do in preparation for - for -

Aziraphale can't stop himself thinking about it. He wonders briefly if Crawly's doing it on purpose. If it was intentional. There really is so much _wriggling_. It seems completely unnecessary.

There's a brief gap when Crawly squirms to one side. "I think I can grab it. Hey, angel, hold my legs so I don't tip out."

"I'm sorry?" He's not sure he's heard properly for a minute.

"My legs, hold my legs I don't want to - y'know - demonic miracle while I'm in the garden will be a bit obvious. But this body's pretty stretchy, figured I'd give it a go."

Aziraphale finds himself sinking to a kneeling position, wavering briefly at the thought of laying his hands so casually on a demon he barely knows. Before he decides that he's simply helping Crawly repair the wall and refusing would be dreadfully rude. He takes a firm grasp on his legs - though he finds he's not quite prepared for the wiry flex of them, for the soft skin and the intriguing rasp of deep red hair under his fingers and palms.

He grips a little harder than he means to and Crawly makes a very strange noise, hips shifting as if he's trying to curl them into the wall and out of sight, and leaving him briefly wedged between the hole and Aziraphale's shoulders.

"Hmmpf."

"I'm sorry what?" Aziraphale says nervously. He's probably doing this wrong.

Crawly's leg stretches in his grip. "I said I - er - have it. Yes, I have it, if you could -" He gives an odd sort of cough, then squirms deeper without warning, leaving Aziraphale's hands sliding up past the demon's knees, and the side of his face briefly pressed to the curve of his behind - warm and unexpectedly giving beneath one thin layer of fabric.

"Oh." That's far too many sensations for Aziraphale's body to cope with for a moment, the corporation is too new to be presented with so much all at once, and most of it is very confusing. He's left trying to process a whole host of new feelings and sensations - some of which seem in direct opposition to each other. His body demands, desires, enjoys, fears, covets, is fascinated and horrified and guilty and stubbornly curious all in the space of a moment.

Crawly has gone very still, and Aziraphale realises he's now gently squeezing the demon's upper thighs. He makes himself stop. That seems like far too much touching without explicit permission. Which is why it takes him a second to realise that Crawly's toes have clenched in his robe and are gently but pointedly pulling him forward, as if to encourage his hand back onto Crawly's legs.

The thought of which is - it can't possibly be the right thing to do, not with the way it makes his skin feel tight and warm, or the way it leaves his sex stiff and heavy in a way that feels like a rude demand. It's all deeply unfair, they're not supposed to - to have drives like the humans. They're not supposed to _want_. He would assume his corporation was broken...only they were given to them by the Almighty Herself.

Did he break it? That can't be possible, surely.

"Crawly?"

There's a shift in the hole, a wriggle that leaves Crawly's thighs somehow barer, then a thump that sounds like the demon banging something on the stone while trying to squirm backwards. But Aziraphale isn't sure he could bear to look at his face right now. He puts his hands on Crawly's hips, to give himself a moment, to just breathe for a second. But Crawly is making it very difficult, twisting enough that there's a slice of light through the hole, just enough space for his voice to drift through.

"I think I'm stuck," he murmurs, with a strange, considering air. "Too many bones in the wrong places. You should probably - ah - punish me for it, or something. Any way you like. I deserve it and all that, wicked demon getting - getting stuck in holes I shouldn't - maybe I broke it just now too? You wouldn't be to blame." He clears his throat, which is an awkward, strangely loud noise in the cramped space. "Only if you - only if you want to, I mean I can't see anything. I'm just, y'know, stuck in this hole."

It's such an obvious ruse. When Aziraphale himself is not sure what exactly he wants only that he _wants_. Which feels scandalous enough by itself.

But he still finds himself slowly pushing Crawly's dark robe up, bunches of it sliding up his long thighs and then abruptly over the bare curve of his arse, which is small and spare but somehow lovely all the same. It flexes and dimples when his thighs quiver, the valley between strangely enticing, more so when Aziraphale parts his legs to better see the soft hang of his balls and the smooth area above them, that strange tight ring of muscle that rests between his buttocks. 

Aziraphale pushes the robes all the way to his thin waist, where the demon disappears into the wall, and then lays his palms on Crawly's buttocks, there's a long startled hiss and a rather distracting wriggle, his anus giving a quick, surprised clench when Aziraphale spreads him open see better.

Oh, it's such a vulnerable, delicate stretch of skin leading to that hidden orifice. He wonders if his own looks the same, soft and pink - and oddly shy when he passes a curious thumb over it.

The sound of fingers scratching on stone, and the feeble kick from one dark-nailed foot, leaves Aziraphale strangely hot all over. He's still rubbing at the core of Crawly - and the little jerks and hisses seem protesting, but the demon's toes keep clawing at his robe, trying to grip and pull him, even as they flail on every stroke of curious fingers.

Aziraphale instinctively leans in, lays his mouth to that soft, wrinkled space, he finds it warm and less resistant to the gentle lick and press of a tongue than the dry pad of his finger.

Crawly makes a high-pitched sound, toes clenching hard before they relax again, his dangling legs try to wrap around Aziraphale and drag him closer. That rather encouraging reaction leaves Aziraphale feeling strangely bold. He uses his thumbs to carefully ease those small buttocks further apart, stretching and opening the demon's body, to show off the bright pink inside. The wet patches of his own saliva make the rim of Crawly's arsehole glisten. He holds it like that until Crawly's toes dig into his thigh, the muscle of his anus trying to pull shut, protesting the draft of air. Aziraphale sinks again, opens his mouth there, tongue sliding flat across that tempting new space that no one has ever seen, or touched. Before pressing curiously into the quick, hot squeeze of Crawly's body.

The demon shudders, toes curling in the grass and there's a muffled sound of shocked pleasure through the thick stones of the wall.

Aziraphale's penis is so stiff beneath his robes that it's verging on discomfort, but he doesn't want to stop. He has his whole mouth stretched open now, lower lip curled at the soft skin below Crawly's balls the solid slick muscle of his tongue pressing in and across and around that fluttering tightness, coaxing it open and wet for him. One of Crawly's legs is quivering and twitching as he squeezes down on Aziraphale's thrusting tongue in greedy desperate clenches. The sound of him whining is perfectly audible.

It's exquisitely new and exciting, a strange intimacy that Crawly is sharing with him, or possibly tempting him into. But Aziraphale is in love with the taste of him, spices and charring and something hot and reptilian that stings the holiness of his mouth in a way that feels fascinating and perfect and beautiful. It makes him feel unexpectedly - uncharacteristically - daring. He licks the demon's rounded balls, mouths them gently and sucks at the heavy shape of them, before returning to Crawly's centre. He leaves it wet and slippery, enough that he finds himself rubbing a thumb across that clenched hole again, and it's easier this time, the work of his mouth enough to coax the muscle soft. Aziraphale finds that his thumb slides into Crawly's body with just a little push.

He can hear the muffled sound of his name, of nails scratching on stone.

Aziraphale pulls his thumb free and presses it back in a few times, enjoys the sight and the feel of it with a guilty sort of hunger - before he's moving both hands back to Crawly's buttocks, stretching him open again, and then sinking down. He rubs his tongue there, before spearing it in as deep as he can manage. He doesn't care that the stretch leaves his mouth and tongue deliciously sore, that seems part of the thrill somehow. He does it again, and again, until the demon's anus is dribbling and shiny with spit. It gives so much more easily now, so open for him, an invitation to squirm inside and see how deep the taste of him goes.

Crawly's toes dig into his thigh as he trembles and shakes and then stiffens, body clenching in quick, hard squeezes - and Aziraphale is suddenly witness to the spatter of warm liquid on the pale stone and across the ground, some of it even lands on the white material of his own robes. It had very obviously spilled from Crawly's neglected cock, the stiffness of which is now slowly decreasing. The demon's legs go limp, the backs of his feet slipping to the dirt.

Crawly is languid and soft under his slow licks, giving little twitches and trembles that Aziraphale feels through his skin. Though his own body is still terribly hot and eager, the blood that runs his corporation pounding in a way that leaves him dizzy, skin tight all over. It's the most intense and delicious sensation. Crawly's hole is pink and wet, still held open by his thumbs which have made little white marks where they're pressed into the demon's spare buttocks. Aziraphale's mouth and chin are very wet too, lips and tongue tingling and well-used. But he still finds himself leaning in and kissing that slippery, puffy ring of muscle, feeling Crawly give a brief jerk of over-stimulated protest.

There's a rasp of skin on stone and Crawly is slipping backwards out of the wall, black robes dropping back into place as he falls to his splayed knees on the grass. His hair is a mess of rusty curls, face flushed a blotchy red, and his chest is moving rapidly as he breathes. His eyes are wide and stunned, the sharp pupils stretched to almonds. He has freckles, Aziraphale hadn't noticed before.

"Angel -" The word comes out surprisingly high-pitched and Crawly gives a little whine of embarrassment and clears his throat. Instead of more words there's a thin laugh, seemingly too surprised to hold his feelings. "That was - when you - I've never felt anything like that, didn't know the corporations did that. Felt like I was spilling open. I read the pamphlets but I didn't expect anything done there to feel so good." He looks up, all dazed smile and honey-yellow eyes. "Definitely didn't expect you to want something - well, not like that - with me."

Aziraphale has never given anyone else pleasure before. No one has ever been pleased with anything he's done. It always seems to be wrong. He finds himself smiling back, and when Crawly's hand sneaks over his in the dirt, lacing their fingers together, he doesn't resist.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Hole In The Wall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27022039) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)




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